RAPTURE

The whispers of the ghosts that haunt
the fans that cheer, players that taunt –
For once the names of greats were found
On outfield walls and pitchers mounds.

The stillness of the yard is eerie,
As loyal fans grow discouraged and weary –
Yet, observe the team pick up its stride,
While players and fans both come alive.

With vigor there are cheers of glee
Reminiscent of a symphony –
For what was lost in the games of yore
The ghosts have resurrected, and once more
the whispers have now turned to joy –
In rapture with the baseball boys.